


Rumours

by GatewayGirl



Series: The Incubus Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: 7th year, Blackmail, Drama, Group Sex, Multi, Student/Teacher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-11
Updated: 2010-03-11
Packaged: 2017-10-07 21:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GatewayGirl/pseuds/GatewayGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is still trouble, even as a lover, and Harry finds his situation getting increasingly out of control. To make things worse, there's Ron...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings**: mixed-sex group sex, sex for manipulative purposes, and references to an off-screen rape
> 
> This is the sequel to _Whispers_. Thanks to my beta-readers Sociofemme and Calanthe, and also to Calanthe for Britpicking. I may do one more story in this series.
> 
> Canon-compliancy: GoF, with some OotP elements

"Where were you this time?"

Harry wasn't surprised at the question. Of the last seven nights, he had spent four late evenings with Draco. Once he had even fallen asleep and not returned to his dormitory until shortly before dawn. He had expected that, sooner or later, he would be called on it upon his return.

The surprise was that it was Ron. Ron had made it clear that he and Harry were no longer friends. Harry had expected it to be Hermione who waited up and demanded details in the stressed, angry voice of someone who cares.

"What's it to you?"

Harry nearly winced as the words left his mouth. Belatedly, he realized that he had been given a chance to fix things -- and he'd just smashed it to pieces in favor of retaliation.

Ron's hurt anger iced over and he drew himself haughtily up. Harry was reminded of Percy. "I may not be Head Boy, Potter, but I am a Prefect. You have been out past lights-out repeatedly. Where have you been?"

Harry glared at him. "Having sex." He strode towards the staircase. Ron overtook him and pulled him around.

"Did she know?" he spat.

Harry looked up, refusing to be cowed by Ron's greater height. "I promise you, Weasley -- my partner was quite willing."

He stormed up the staircase. Ron let him go.

 

Draco had suggested that they take advantage of Saturday. After breakfast the next morning, Harry slipped down the staircase and made his way through the dungeons to Slytherin. It was complicated, but exciting, to work his way through the common room unseen and get into the seventh-year boys' dormitory. Draco had left the door to his own room open, and was lying on his stomach on the bed. Harry went over and eased his way on the bed, and Draco, at the feeling of the mattress shifting, smiled over his shoulder. Harry wanted to straddle him and rub against him, but he was certain that someone would notice a section of Draco's torso and legs disappearing.

He leaned down. "Close the door, Malfoy."

"Take off the cloak."

"Close the door."

"I like it open." Draco looked back over his shoulder again. "No one's going to tell on you, Potter. This isn't Gryffindor."

It was almost a dare. Annoyed, Harry took off his cloak and stuffed it in his bag. "There. I'm visible. Happy?"

"Not really. You're not doing anything to me yet."

With a growl, Harry dove into the place he had wanted to be before, coming forward on his hands for a symbolic bite at the back at Draco's neck. "Oh, I'll do things to you." He rocked his hips, rubbing against Draco's thighs. Draco brought them tighter together, arched back, and let out a shivering sigh.

"Yes, Harry! You're _just _what I need, now. So good."

"Take your shirt off," Harry ordered.

"Mm."

Draco stretched his arms out in front of him, and lazily began to undo his cufflinks. His progress was torturously slow, but Harry didn't help. He continued to push, enjoying the feeling of hardening against the furrow between Draco's thighs, like the crack of his arse, but longer. Draco let out a little cry, and Harry realized that his last push had gone far enough up to nudge behind Draco's bollocks. "Oh, you want it," Harry breathed. "So eager, Malfoy." He rocked more, making shorter, quicker, harder strokes as he leaned down close to Draco's ear. "Pretty Draco."

Draco gave up on buttons and yanked his shirt off over his head, so he could set his hands flat on the bed and push the skin of his back up against the front of Harry's robes. Harry grabbed his hair and twisted to kiss him, falling into the eager welcome of Draco's mouth.

A startled yelp from the doorway jolted them apart. Both turned to look. Blaise Zabini was standing there, staring at them, his mouth open as if he would speak. After several silent seconds, he backed away two steps and then left.

Harry snorted. "_Now _will you close the door?"

"No. I like it open."

Harry growled.

"Are you afraid?" Draco taunted. "Shy?"

"I'm never afraid." Harry lied. He pushed back from the bed to his feet, and Draco, startled, turned on to his side.

"Harry...."

"What?" Harry drew off his robes and tossed them on the ground, then made a show of yanking back his belt to release it from the buckle. "Lie back down! I'm not stopping just because you want to be weird."

Draco settled, but on his back. Watching hungrily as Harry's clothes came off, he shimmied out of his own trousers. Harry wasn't sure what he might want -- to be seen with Harry, or to get Harry angry and forceful -- but it was time to remind him about the dangers of tempting Gryffindors. With a prowling crawl, Harry moved back on to the bed to kneel between Draco's legs, which parted readily to accommodate him. He watched with satisfaction as Malfoy's eyes half-closed. From this position, he would usually lean forward for a kiss, and then start working his way lower with kisses and licks and bites, settling finally into sucking Draco's cock. He slid his hands down firm, white thighs, and then pulled them suddenly apart. "But if you want to be _seen_, you're going to be seen getting fucked."

Draco's eyes had flown open wide. He made an incoherent, high noise, like a dog begging for a treat. Harry shuddered with lust at the need in that sound.

"Is that what you want?" Harry reached for his wand. A quick motion and Draco's hole glistened with oil. Harry did his own hand for good measure. "Want it in you?  He teased a slick finger around the puckered flesh, his other hand gripping Draco's hip. He wondered, for a moment, that Draco would want to be seen taking this from him, but then remembered that he was Draco's incubus. His voice lowered. "Want Zabini to see your demon fierce with lust?"

Draco moaned. _"Harry."_

Harry thought that was about as much of an answer as he was likely to get. He eased the finger inside and thrilled at the feeling of the hard muscle around it, first twitching tight, then slowly easing. He knew just how good that hard ring would feel around his cock. The idea of being watched should bother him, he thought, but it just made him hotter to imagine Blaise returning and staring wide-eyed as a Gryffindor intruder pounded Draco Malfoy into his silk-covered mattress.

That didn't take long. Harry was just reaching the end of his first slow push when the doorway to his side was filled again. As subtly as possible, moving only his eyes -- and those not fully -- he checked that it wasn't an attack. It didn't appear to be, but he had to hide his surprised twitch back with a hard thrust forward. Draco cried out in surprise and pleasure.

"Told you!" Zabini was saying triumphantly.

"Dear Isis," Liviana said flatly. Isadora peered past her with wide eyes.

"You have visitors, Draco." Harry kept his voice even, and set up a rock of his hips as he spoke, arching his torso back from his partner's, so the newcomers could get a glimpse of his slicked red cock pumping in and out of Draco's arse. He slid his hands under Draco's pink arse cheeks to lift them further up. Only when Draco was displayed to his satisfaction did he look back at their audience. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait, if you want his attention. _I _seem to have it at the moment."

Draco raised his head and tried to look, but then let it fall back with a cry, proving Harry's words. It was easier in Harry's position. While continuing to fuck Draco, he stared at the three Slytherins in the doorway, expecting that they would protest or leave. Instead, Isadora shifted forward for a better look, and Liviana, rather than protesting, pulled Isadora solidly in front of her. One of her hands stayed wrapped under Isadora's breasts, but the other went down to her groin, rubbing and pulling back.

"Merlin." Zabini took one hesitant step into the room, and then after a pause, another, bolder one.

"Draco?" Harry questioned, his voice low, as he slowed his motion to a suspenseful pull back, taking it almost to the point of withdrawal. Draco tried to look at the visitors again.

"Anything," he whispered, returning his attention to Harry. "As far as you'll go."

For answer, Harry rammed back in deep, and then, returning to a steady rhythm, looked up. "Want something, Zabini?"

"Oh yeah," the boy answered shakily. He slid his open robes off his shoulders and stepped right up to the edge of the bed. "A lot of things," he answered boldly, but the way his eyes stayed locked on Draco's skin showed where his interest lay. He fumbled with his trousers and drew out his cock, which was both long and thick. With one hand, he pulled it down to rub against Draco's hip. The other hand came almost to Harry's shoulder before flinching back.

"Would you mind, Potter...?"

"If you need to hold on, that's fine. Want to see you get off on him."

With a moan, Blaise not only held Harry's shoulder, but sidestepped down, moving his erection lower, so that it was caught between Harry and Draco each time Harry pushed. Harry noticed that it wasn't what he had agreed to, but had no desire to protest. Draco was nearly mad with lust, his face scarlet with heat.  Blaise swore in a low, reverential tone. Harry spared a glance back to the door and saw that the girls had stepped inside and closed it. Liviana was leaned solidly back against it, and Isadora against her. Isadora's robes were open and her skirts rucked to her waist. From the motion of the back of Liviana's hand, Harry could imagine what her fingers must be doing -- plunging into Isadora's cunt and then twisting out.

"Hot, aren't they?" Zabini whispered, and Draco whined in protest.

"Harry, please!" he said. "Suck Blaise for me? Want to see you suck him."

_Till he can't notice the girls? _Harry thought, and snorted. "Want it, Zabini?"

"What the fuck do you _think_?" Zabini retorted, his voice going high with frustration.

"Straddle his face, then. Draco, lick his balls. Make him want to stay there."

Zabini's trousers hit the floor and he toed out of shoes and socks and vaulted on to the bed. In a moment, he was where Harry had said, his hard cock inches from Harry's face and intimidatingly large. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, Harry wrapped most of his hand around the base of it before taking it in his mouth. Zabini moaned.

Harry slowed his fucking, the better to last and to concentrate on what he was doing with lips and tongue. He didn't mind, he decided, the stretched feeling of taking that big cock in his mouth, though he thought his cheeks would get sore a lot faster than with Draco's more slender length. Blaise made gratifying noises when he pulled back to use his tongue, so shallow was okay.

Blaise cried out. It was so unexpected that Harry lifted his head to look. _He _hadn't done anything new. Had one of the girls touched him? They were several steps away still, but Draco, he found, was licking at Blaise's hole, his body straining to stay curled up enough to reach with the tip of his tongue.

"_Dirty, _Malfoy," Harry said admiringly. "And he _likes _that. I think I'll make you do it to me, later." He looked back at the girls. "What about you two? Want to touch?"

Isadora let out a little gasp and shoved forward against Liviana's hand. With a chuckle, Harry lowered his head to lick at Zabini's cock before taking it back in his mouth.

A minute later, an arm rubbed across his sweat-sticky abdomen, and looking down, he saw a hand curl around Draco's cock. Draco _screamed, _and in moments, he was coming, the continued pulls of that hand milking out great spurts of white that splattered Harry's chest, and Zabini's left thigh, and his own stomach. Harry had to hold his breath and think of the Dursleys' kitchen to keep from following immediately.

"Yes," Isadora hissed, and Liviana pushed her forward.

"Fuck her, Potter, if you still can."

Harry lifted his mouth. "Yeah," he said. "Draco, take over for me."

He was glad that he'd looked at the heterosexual sections of the sex books. It made sense to cast a cleaning spell on himself before turning over, and he was able to follow it with a quick sterilization spell as well. Isadora seemed likely to be on a contraceptive potion, but he didn't want to assume. Blaise had scrambled off the bed to stand beside it, and Draco was kneeling on his pillow, already taking Blaise deeper than Harry had dared try. Harry lay back, throwing one arm over his head to hold on to Draco's calf. "Come on," he said to Isadora, trying to pretend he'd done this before. He had seen pictures of the position anyway.

"That's it," Liviana said roughly. "Ride him."

With no further encouragement, Isadora swung a leg over Harry and grabbed for his cock. She rubbed across the tip of it several times, that part of her -- Harry still hadn't seen it, he realized, but the _cunt _that he had so little concept of -- wet and hot and surprisingly soft. With a little cry, she plunged down, enveloping him in a gentler, more smoothly general heat than Draco's arse. Harry moaned.

He desperately needed _not _to come. Not yet, not _quite _yet. She must be close, too.

He concentrated on his hands, letting go of Draco's leg to slide them up her sides. Other hands were already on her breasts, he discovered, as his eyes moved up. Liviana was stroking and squeezing them in time with long rubbing pushes against Isadora's arse. Harry fell into time with her, so Isadora was rocked between them, each slow rub from Liviana pushing her fully onto Harry.

"So beautiful," Harry murmured. "You like the way she touches you, don't you? Those clever hands squeezing your breasts --"

Isadora's cries rose in excitement, and it was too much. He grabbed her hips, holding her down as he shoved up, and roared as his bollocks tightened and let loose. The thought of how he was filling her drove him wild, as did her gratifying screams of delight, and for a moment, there was nothing else in the world.

 

They all shifted a few times more, Harry and Draco ending up with their feet on Draco's pillow, the boys sated and lazily stroking Isadora as she lapped at Liviana's cunt. After having got a look at that, Harry decided that he liked the feel better. He let one of his hands move to Draco, drifting down his back to cup a cheek possessively.

Draco raised his head from kissing at Isadora's shoulder blade. "Glad I left the door open, Harry?"

"Oh, I'm very well satisfied," Harry replied. "Any time you feel like sharing, let me know."

 

When Harry dropped by Gryffindor before dinner, Hermione was waiting for him. "Harry! Where have you been?"

He grinned. "Playing with Slytherins. Don't worry, Hermione; I was careful."

She grimaced. "Malfoy?"

"Of course." He didn't elaborate.

 

November flowed into December, and Harry stopped being so cautious when he went through the Slytherin common room. Once he was in the dormitories, he didn't hide at all. Crabbe seemed to accept Draco's order not to tell, and Blaise -- Zabini had become Blaise, somehow -- watched eagerly for the moments when Draco might want the spice of a third party. Goyle had left school after his father's death, and Nott after Halloween, so it was just those two seventh-yearsto contend with, except for when the girls wandered through. Harry fucked Isadora once more, and then another sixth-year girl, Irma, that she brought along one evening. Draco didn't seem to mind, although when Harry commented admiringly on one of the sixth year Slytherin _boys_, he got irritable. Blaise was never an issue, perhaps because he so obviously wanted Draco, not Harry.

He had to be increasingly more careful about _when _he saw Draco, because Ron had taken to informing Filch when Harry was out late. Filch hadn't actually caught him yet, but it had been close a few times, and on one particular occasion, Filch had staked out the portrait hole. Harry, afraid that he would be grabbed and have his cloak confiscated if he tried to get through, had spent an anxious night in the corridor, and Ron had taken thirty points from him in the morning, and then asked Professor McGonagall to give him detention. Hermione was too fair to interfere, but she and Ron, who had been uneasily reestablishing their friendship, returned to a prickly truce. Harry, for his part, adapted by doing less of his visiting at night.

One day, after a particularly pleasant, leisurely afternoon with Draco -- just Draco, and some conjured straps, and some new lube of Draco's creation, which actually tasted good -- he found himself coming up from the dungeons just in time for dinner. He caught sight of Hermione outside the Great Hall. She was listening to Parvati, but with silent annoyance showing in the side of her face and the set of her shoulders, and he moved up to rescue her.

"Hermione," he called cheerily, as he cut into the group of Gryffindors. "Sit with me, tonight?"

She smiled, and Ron, a few steps away, glared, and Parvati cheerfully excused herself.

 

"Thank you," Hermione whispered, as they settled at the long table.

"No problem. It'll be nice to talk to you without studying between us, anyway."

With an exasperated look, she sniffed. "It's not my fault that you're never around before dinner. Frequently, you're not even _at _dinner."

"It's not my fault that Ron is a git."

"He's only enforcing the rules, you know."

"No. He's enforcing rules that he'd usually ignore, because he's out to get me, and it's a bloody pain."

Sighing, she reached for the rolls that had just appeared. "Still. He _shouldn't _usually ignore them."

"Why not? You know there's really nothing I can do _after _nine that I can't do before."

She giggled. "Have you conducted thorough experiments?"

"_Very _thorough."

 

They had a pleasant dinner, and were just starting on trifle when Professor McGonagall came down from the high table. She paused here and there along the length of the Gryffindor one, leaving whispers in her wake. Before Harry could establish a pattern, she had stopped across from them.

"Miss Granger."

"Yes, Professor?"

As Hermione answered, Harry relaxed a little. This didn't seem to have anything to do with him.

"The prefects will all be meeting directly after dinner. Please come to the room adjacent to my office as soon as you have finished."

Her voice was strained, and Hermione took on some of her tension as she nodded. "Yes, Professor."

As soon as McGonagall continued down the table, Harry leaned towards Hermione. "What do you think that was about?"

"I've no idea, but it can't be good."

"No, she looked upset enough frighten a June lesson into behaving."

Hermione took a last bite of her food and stood up. "I'll talk to you later, Harry. I think I'd better go."

Watching her leave, Harry noticed that it wasn't just the Gryffindor prefects that had been summoned. Ernie Macmillan and Susan Bones were also heading for the door, Susan moving in anxious little steps, and Ernie walking with his chest puffed out to show his gleaming prefect badge. Draco, as far as he could see, had already left.

Harry finished his dinner thoughtfully. There was no point in looking for Draco, as he was no doubt with the other prefects. He might as well go up to the library and research for his neglected Charms essay.

 

When Harry got back to Gryffindor, Hermione was nowhere to be seen, but Ron was sitting by the fire. He stood and met Harry's eyes, but Harry ignored the contact and continued upstairs. He wasn't altogether surprised when Ron followed him. Ron never had known when to give up.

"Potter."

"What is it this time, Ron? As you can see, I'm in Gryffindor on time, and I've done my homework."

"No interest in our meeting?"

"Not from you."

"A Slytherin girl is pregnant."

Harry turned at that. He had a moment's alarm, and then realized that was ridiculous. It couldn't have anything to do with him, certainly. He had been careful about his few times with girls, even if there was some magical way to detect conception so early. Why was Ron telling _him _this?

"How careless of her," he said flatly.

Ron's face turned red with rage, and he opened his mouth to speak, seeming to only just choke the words back. "Never mind," he said instead, and left the room.

After several uneasy minutes, Harry decided to follow him and have the matter out, but when he got down to the common room, Ron was gone, and Hermione was still missing. He returned to his dormitory.

 

The next morning, during breakfast, McGonagall came down to the Gryffindor students' table again. This time, however, she did not want the prefects.

"Mr. Potter?"

"Er, yes, professor?"

"You will report to Professor Snape's office after breakfast."

Hermione gave a little gasp. After a glance at her, Harry focused on McGonagall again.

"I have Charms, professor--"

"I am aware of that, Mr. Potter. Nonetheless, you will report to Professor Snape."

"Professor--" Hermione began.

"No, Miss Granger. Reports are all confidential, as is the subject at hand."

She swept away, and Harry, bewildered, turned to Hermione. "What is she talking about?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Harry. You heard her. It's confidential."

"If she's sending me to Snape, I deserve to know--"

"It's probably best if you _don't _know. And Harry, _please _say 'Professor Snape.'"

"You're lucky I don't just say 'the bat.'"

"That will _not _help!"

Hermione seemed honestly distressed, so Harry choked down his slice of toast, which was suddenly dry and tasteless despite a generous slathering of jam, and he headed off to the dungeons.

 

The door to Snape's office was open. It swung closed behind him with a heavy thunk. From behind his desk, Snape regarded him with the peculiar sort of twisted pleasure that he usually showed when Harry was in trouble, but when he spoke, his voice was harsh with rage.

"Mr. Potter. You were an unexpected addition to my list, but in hindsight, perhaps predictable." As he spoke, he came to his feet and stalked around the desk. Behind him, a quill began to write on a roll of parchment. "Do you know why you are here?"

"No, sir," Harry said politely. To his relief, the quill wrote something of an appropriate length.

"Well, perhaps you had better _think!_"

"I ... I really don't know, sir. I mean, this obviously isn't about Potions, and I don't know why else --"

"A young lady of my house was _raped, _Potter!" Snape snarled, lunging towards him. He froze at the last moment, and then, snarling, turned and began to pace restlessly back and forth in front of Harry.

"Er...." And was pregnant, Harry realized. That was why Ron had been so angry at his response. _But still, why come after me?_

"Does this girl claim _I _raped her, sir?"

Snape whipped about. Black, hard eyes fixed on him. "Are you familiar with the term 'violation potion,' Potter?"

Harry froze. His involvement in the situation suddenly made sense. Ron knew he had been looking for that sort of potion, and had obviously continued to think that he would use it in the expected manner.

"Yes, sir," he answered. Snape knew that, obviously, if Ron had told him about that conversation.

"The girl cannot tell us who raped her, because the girl believed herself to be a _virgin. _Do you understand what this has _done _to her? What it will do?"

Bits and pieces of possible repercussions were running through his head, but he couldn't put them all together. Harry suddenly found himself able to sympathize with Snape's restless rage. "It sounds horrible, but no, I probably can't, completely," Harry said carefully. "But, professor, I --"

"Your friend Ronald Weasley--"

"He is _not _my friend."

"BE SILENT!" Snape looked like he might attack him then and there. "Mr Weasley has stated that you asked him how you might obtain a violation potion. Do you deny it?"

"No, but--"

Snape's hand clamped tight across his mouth, and Harry fought down an urge to bite. "I will let you elaborate on your excuses later, Mr. Potter. For now, you will answer the questions that _I ask_. Is that clear?"

Harry nodded, and Snape removed his hand. Harry licked his lips and wished that he hadn't. A bitter taste lingered from Snape's touch.

"Did you succeed in obtaining such a potion?"

Harry wanted to deny it. However, he wouldn't put it past Snape to slip him Veritaserum, illegal or not, if he wasn't satisfied by the answers he got, and lying now might cause him more trouble than admitting it.

"Yes."

"Yes." The answer seemed to take Snape by surprise. He stopped pacing.

"Once," Harry added quickly. "But it--" At a threatening move from Snape, he went silent.

"Once," Snape repeated. "And did you use this potion?"

"On my lover," Harry answered. Normally, he wouldn't have called Draco that, but it was the quickest way to sneak in an explanation. "Yes."

"Your ... _lover._" Snape's mouth curled around the word as if it was sour. "Meaning you had had sex with the victim previously?"

"Not exactly," Harry said, deciding to ignore the word "victim". "And it wasn't sex, the way I think you--"

"So you believe you could not have got her pregnant."

"Look," Harry snapped, "as far as I know, _men _do not get pregnant, and if there's some magical way to do it, it certainly wouldn't be from having your cock sucked!"

Snape froze. For a moment, Harry thought he would laugh, but he merely sneered. "It remains, you arrogant brat, that whomever you were with would not allow it."

"Allow it! He practically _suggested _it! _And _told me where to get the potion, _and _gave me his password!"

Snape glared at him disdainfully, but at least he wasn't pacing now, or even looming, much. "Did you consider that he may have thought you would use it on someone _else _and invite him?"

"Why? When he was talking about-- Look, he goes on about these strange sexual fantasies to me, and sometimes I do them. The first was all about how I could sneak into someone's room and come on them while they were asleep, and when I did that to him, he was pleased. And _he's _touched me when I told him not to -- remember that Potions lesson when Draco petrified me?"

Snape stepped back. "Draco?"

"Was _groping _me under the table."

Silence stretched through minutes as Professor Snape resumed his pacing, slow now, but with the silent menace of a great cat. "Let me see if I understand this," he said, his voice dangerously low. "You broke into Slytherin, and then into Draco Malfoy's room, taking his revelation of his password and his indication of where you might get a violation potion as _consent_."

"Not _just_ that, but yes."

"Ah yes," Snape elaborated. "On a previous occasion, you felt he was complacent about you masturbating over his bed and spraying him with the result."

"Which he suggested, pretty much. And he continued to suggest things, afterwards."

"So, once you had gained entry to Draco's room, what did you do? Did you seal the door?"

"Er... yes, sir."

"And you gave him the potion?"

"Yes."

"How, exactly?"

"I ... I stroked the dropper across his lips, sir ... then he opened them, and I squirted it into his mouth."

"Did you squirt anything else in his mouth?" Snape shot back, with evident amusement.

"Er... no. I mainly ...." Harry struggled for words. "Is this level of detail really necessary," he complained, "or are you just enjoying it?"

Snape eased around behind Harry, to where Harry could not see him without turning. Harry, given the choice of remaining still or twisting and looking ridiculous, remained still, looking forward. Watching Snape didn't actually make him any safer, he knew. "Oh, believe me, Potter," Snape purred, from far too close, the warmth of his breath faintly perceptible on Harry's neck, "if I thought I could get away with making you put all this in a pensieve, I'd be hauling one out right now."

Harry snorted. His professor's tone had grown deep and slow with undisguised lust. Harry thought it would have confused and frightened him a month earlier, but now it seemed primarily amusing. "Well, at least I know what to get you for Christmas," he quipped. He glanced back at Snape's stunned face. "Not that I would. You'd show it to somebody, and then it would get reported in the national press." He shuddered, but couldn't restrain a nervous smile. "The Boy-Who-Lived a Pervert! Details, Page 2."

"You still haven't told me about the girl, Potter." Snape's voice was suddenly sharp again.

Harry gritted his teeth. "There _was no girl! _I used this _once, _on Draco, and he didn't mind. We've done a lot more, since. Do you need to give me Veritaserum to believe me?"

Snape moved back into view. Harry could see he was smiling. It was not a reassuring sight.

"What a lovely idea, Potter." His smile twisted yet more. "And since you _suggested_ this," he leaned close, "may I presume that I have your consent?"

Harry refused to shift back. "I have conditions," he said.

"Oh really? Do you want me to respect your privacy?"

Harry winced. "No -- well, _yes_, but I don't really expect it. No, I want you to give it to Draco too, and let me ask him questions when I feel the answers are relevant."

Snape's lips tightened into a thin line while he thought. "Very well," he said finally. "If Draco _consents._"

"He damn well better," Harry muttered.

"Very well," Snape said. "You are dismissed, for now. Come back here after lessons, with Mr. Malfoy."

Nodding, Harry took a step back.

"Oh," Snape added. "This matter is confidential, Potter. That means you do not discuss it with Miss Granger, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Not, I expect, that you would want to," he sneered.

"Well, she already knows a lot of it."

Snape, who had been turning away, whirled back to stare at him. "About the violation potion?"

Oh. The prefects had probably been asked about that. "No, not that. But the, um, masturbating, and him groping me during that lesson. After it happened."

"How intriguing." Snape accompanied the words with a definite leer, and Harry wanted to say that he hadn't told her in _that _way, but before he could speak, Snape's expression faded to weariness. "Send in the next young fool," he said, harsh again, and that was all.

 

At first, Harry was surprised that he was being given the opportunity to speak to Draco before they were questioned together, but he realized, once he considered the matter, that if Snape was going to give him Veritaserum, it really didn't matter. He was a little afraid that Draco would deny everything and refuse to be questioned, and that Snape would let him evade it.

He stopped Draco outside of the Great Hall at lunch, and pulled him into a corner.

"We need to talk."

Draco frowned, looked about them, and pointed to the stairway. A few minutes later, they were closeted in a dungeon store room, with the door sealed behind them.

"Is this about Jeannette?"

"Is she the Slytherin girl who was raped?" At Draco's nod, Harry nodded in return. "Sort of. I'd asked Ron about ... about what turned out to be violation potions, and he told McGonagall that, and Snape questioned me this morning, and you know how he hates me."

Draco, still alert, accepted this. "What did you tell him?"

"That I bought such a thing once, and I'd used it once -- on you."

"I see. Did he believe you?"

"He said not, but I think he did. He was getting off on making me describe it; you should have heard his voice! Before that, when he still thought I might have raped the g-- Jeannette -- he was livid."

"Would you like me to talk to him?"

"Actually, I've offered to take Veritaserum, but I said I wanted you there. He wants us in his office after lessons." Harry felt suddenly embarrassed by what else he had demanded. "I also said I wanted to be able to question you the same way if you wouldn't back me up, but that was just that he makes me paranoid."

"I will absolutely back you up, Harry," Draco said. "Although I _won't _take Veritaserum. One of us should be enough." His eyes went out of focus, as if he was picturing something. "You're sure, are you, that he was aroused?"

"'Oh, believe me, Potter,'" Harry quoted, trying to match Snape's lustful purr, "'if I thought I could get away with making you put all this in a pensieve, I'd be hauling one out right now.'"

Draco laughed. "This is perfect," he said.

"It is?"

"Do you still have a dose of that potion left?"

"Of course. I mean, I wouldn't use it on--"

"Marvelous. Bring it."

"_Bring _it?"

"To the questioning. I'll give it to you."

Harry stared. "Let's see," he said finally. "Snape is after me for using an illegal potion, so you are going to give me this same potion in front of him. This helps me _how_?"

"Oh, but he'll be mad with lust by the time you finish telling him every last detail -- and so will I. So I'll give it to you, then start undressing you and fondling you, and he won't be able to resist following, especially if I whisper some suggestions in his ear...."

_Which you are ever so good at,_ Harry thought. He said:

"So now I'm unconscious, getting molested by the Professor-Who-Will-Not-Bathe."

"Who'd be damn sexy if he did."

"He would n--" Harry remembered that sinuous prowl, the feel of hot breath on his neck. "Okay. Perhaps. In the nastiest sort of way. But he doesn't."

"What do you care? You'll be unconscious."

Harry growled. "I fail to see how this helps."

"It helps because I have a ring that shields me against memory charms. He won't be able to Obliviate me afterwards, but I'll let him think he has, and _then _we can blackmail him." Draco grinned. "He'll have to let you off, whether he thinks you're guilty or not. He can't admit to having had the headmaster's favorite student, while said student was under the very potion Snape is supposed to be investigating!"

"_Don't _leave me with him."

"Of course I won't!" Draco said cheerily. "How could I blackmail him if I did that?"


	2. Schemes

Draco obviously thought his plan the height of cleverness; Harry was less certain. However, one-time sexual contact with Snape, especially as he did not need to be mentally present for it, seemed much better than living through the media storm that would result even from an unproved allegation that he had raped another student -- or possibly several other students, from Draco's account of the prefects' meeting.

So it was that he found himself in Snape's office, agreeing to Draco's amendment to Harry's deal with Snape -- that Draco be interrogated further only if Harry disputed one of his answers, or, at the end, his full story. Snape was leaning back against his desk, with obvious pleasure and menace tilting a small phial of potion in the light. One chair was set out in front of his desk.

"Now." Snape said, "I don't usually allow students being questioned to sit, but considering the _enhancement_, I think it advisable. In the chair, please, Potter."

"Give him a light dose," Draco said suddenly, as Harry sat down. "You don't want him too emotionally distanced."

Snape gave him a scornful look. "I do know what I am doing, Mr. Malfoy." He reached out, nearly brushing his finger across Harry's lips. "Open your mouth, Potter."

Harry did. Only two drops of the liquid landed on his tongue, he thought, but he instantly felt lighter.

"I am going to ask you your name, Potter. Do your best to tell me that it is Neville Longbottom. What is your name?"

_Neville Longbottom_, Harry tried to say, but what came out was "Harry Potter." He tried again, to the same result.

"Did you, at any time, have sex with a fifth year Slytherin girl?"

"No."

"How many students in my house have you had sex with?

"Four. Some people might say five, but Liviana is a lesbian, I think. She was there, but she only let Isadora touch her."

"An interesting reply, Potter. I thought it was only Draco."

"It was only Draco with the potion. Or asleep. And Draco has always been there, even when someone else has."

"So, Draco and Isadora. Who were the other two?"

"Irma and Blaise."

"What varieties of violation potion have you bought, Potter?"

"Deep Dreams."

"How many times?"

"Once."

"How many doses?"

"Two."

"Have you ever made a violation potion?"

"No."

"Have you ever obtained one by other means than purchase?"

"No."

"So these two doses of Deep Dreams are the only such potion that you have ever had in your possession?"

"Yes."

"How did you use them?"

Harry hesitated. There were so many things to answer to that. "I used one on Draco. I still have the other. Do you want to know about the one I used on Draco?"

"In a moment. First, _why _did you use the potion on Draco?'

"Because he'd whispered all sorts of things to me about sex with someone who was asleep. Both sides of it. I knew he'd think it was hot, and he'd made me think it was hot. Also because I wasn't sure I could go through with it -- with a man, I mean -- and I didn't want to find out halfway through when he was awake, and then have to continue or to refuse him."

"Interesting," Draco commented, and Snape shot him a look.

"When you gave Draco this potion," Snape said, his voice smoothing out to dark velvet, "what did you do?"

Harry told him. He told about sliding the covers off Draco, and about how his skin had shimmered, and how he had kissed him all over before taking his cock in his mouth and discovering that he didn't mind that at all. "He came too fast, though. In my mouth."

"Did that bother you?"

"Well, yes. I wanted him to come on himself, so he'd wake up sticky. But I got him off again, and myself as well, so there was plenty of mess to let him know I'd been there."

There was far more breath than usual between Snape's words. "And how did he react? When you next saw him?"

"He sat very close, and he called me 'incubus' and let me stroke his leg, and he whined when I asked if he'd like to wake up, next time."

"Oh. Yes. Tell me about the next time."

"Yes. I'd meant to delay, but I couldn't. I wanted him awake. I snuck into Slytherin in my invisibility cloak, and he was in a bad mood, which was alarming."

"But you stayed."

"Yes. But I waited longer. I knew he'd want me to start when he was asleep, because by then, that was the fantasy."

"When you were confident that he was asleep, what did you do?"

Words poured from Harry -- cautious touches, the times he wondered if Draco had woken, and, embarrassingly, how he'd moved to fuck him because he doubted his inexperienced attempt at a blow job would be special enough to please. That bit made Draco whine, and when Harry looked up, Snape's eyes were boring into him, and the professor's color was high. Harry vaguely remembered that Draco wanted that.

"Do you have any questions for him, Draco?" Snape asked.

Draco laughed. "Oh, absolutely. Harry, did you _like _it when I paralyzed you in potions class, and then fondled you through your robes?"

The question was complicated, but Harry couldn't organize his answer. It just came out in pieces. "It was scary," Harry said, "and I was angry, because it was you, and I didn't like you then, and you'd called me your toy, which offended me, but it felt good, and it was funny when I thought you'd get caught, and afterwards I had to go to my room and wank. I tried to get my hand at the angle yours had been at and imagined that it was you, going further, getting to skin."

Snape's breath came out in a shaky hiss.

"And you, sir," Draco said to him. He licked his pink lips. "Do you have any questions for me?"

"What was the appeal?" Snape asked, his voice tight with tension. "If you had followed it with this sort of questioning, to hear all of this, I would understand. If you had given him a potion of your own devising, which allowed you to remember, I would understand. But why allow him to truly do that to you? Was it just a step in seduction?"

"In part," Draco replied. "But it also has its own appeal. I doubt I'm the only person who would think so."

"An alarming theory."

"Give Harry the antidote? I want him better able to think."

Nodding, Snape handed Harry a cup that had been sitting to the side. "Drink this. You may still have a regrettable tendency toward honesty, but you should be able to rein it in if you truly wish."

Harry drank the thick liquid, and felt his mind reassemble the patterns and conditions and evaluations that controlled what he said and to whom. He licked his lips nervously, and then heated as he saw Professor Snape follow the motion with lust-glazed eyes. Of the two of them, he suspected he was now the one more in control.

"Do you _trust _me, Harry?" Draco appeared just as excited as Snape, with his cheeks pink and his breath quick, but his voice was a soft drawl, the sort that filled Harry with both alarm and excitement.

"Do you think I'm mental?" he asked indignantly. "Of course I don't!"

"Will you do what I say anyway?" Draco coaxed, reaching out to brush the side of his neck.

Harry moaned. "I always do, don't I?"

"Do you have what's left of that potion on you?"

"You think I walk around with highly illegal potions for no particular reason?"

"You might, but no. I think you walk around with highly illegal potions because I _told _you to. Come on, baby. Own up. I want to be the demon, today. Let's show him what it's like."

Harry nodded breathlessly and, with a glance at Snape, reached into his bag. He pulled out a box, and from that a bag, and from that a tiny vial with a dropper top. Draco took it from him, and stood straddling Harry's lap. He unwarded and opened the vial.

"Drink up, baby. It's all in my hands."

"Oh god." Harry closed his eyes and tipped his head back slightly, letting Draco squirt a dropper full of the cloudy liquid into his mouth.

"Oh," Harry murmured. "My darling demon. Do anything you will." The last thing he saw was Draco's keen eyes. Inexorably, his own relaxed shut and his breathing steadied.

"Harry?" a familiar voice whispered. Kisses touched the corners of his mouth, but he couldn't kiss back; he could only feel the brush of moist breath and the rub of a hot body across his lap.

"Oh yeah," the voice panted. "Oh, yeah, I think you're mental."

Everything faded.

 

When Harry revived, he was lying on the floor of Snape's office, but he didn't think he could have been on that hard a surface for long. He felt sore and sticky, but in a good, well-shagged sort of way, and he stretched and rolled onto his side to sit.

"Did you sleep well?" Draco asked, turning from the shelves.

Harry grinned. "You'd know better than I would," he quipped, and Draco laughed.

Before anything more could be said, Snape swept in from the back room. He looked as aloof as ever, and his eyes flashed over both of them with familiar contempt. "Ah. Mr. Potter. You have recovered from Draco's little exhibition, I see."

"Apparently," Harry answered, getting to his feet.

"Good. You are dismissed; wait outside or not, as you please. I have a few things to say to your paramour."

"But the investigation--"

"Later, Harry," Draco growled, and Harry left.

Draco emerged a few minutes later. "Come on," he said, and they walked down the corridor. "We've probably missed dinner, but we can get something from the kitchens, I expect."

"All right," Harry agreed. He wondered if Draco's ring had worked. "What happened back there? While I was asleep?"

"Nothing much," Draco said, but he winked. "Let's get food first, and _then _plan."

 

Fifteen minutes later, they were settled in Draco's room with a basket of food and a jug of pumpkin juice.

"This is just to keep us going, you understand," Draco said. "I expect you're exhausted from all that writhing, and Snape and I both took a potency enhancer to keep going with you, and I feel like I've been wrung out. But really, I need to extract the memory and make copies of it, and then you and I need to confront him immediately, before he decides what to report about you. To our advantage, I expect he's just as exhausted, and probably won't try to do anything before morning."

"So you do remember."

"Oh yes! And it was decidedly hot. I always thought he must have a lot of repressed lust -- like you, but with twenty years for it to build up. Every time he sees us with our heads together, he's going to need a wank, I expect."

"I could have guessed _that _from the interrogation."

"Mm. He was practically panting when he asked you what you'd done to me, wasn't he?"

Popping the last of a roll in his mouth, Draco headed for a large cupboard set against the wall. From the back of it, he pulled a carved soapstone bowl, and a capped urn.

"This is pretty much like a pensieve," he said. "Well, actually, it _is _a pensieve, but the medium I'm going to put in it is different, and will allow us to make copies of the memories. I'll be able to restore the original with _most_ of the impact of the experience, but a little is lost from each copy made. Not that I think I'll care when that means that I get to _watch _it any time I like."

Harry nodded nervously. He wasn't sure he liked that thought.

"So, I'll make a copy for each of us and bottle them. When you have yours, go and hide it somewhere you think it will be safe -- from Snape and from others -- and then meet me back at the base of the stairs, and we'll go and negotiate with Snape." He paused. "Which you should let me do, obviously. Just stand there and look threatening and ... Gryffindorish."

"Okay." Harry was already thinking about where to hide the memory. In one of the collapsed tunnels, he thought. The Chamber of Secrets occurred to him -- even the passage to it. But then, if he was the only one who could reach it, wiping his memory would keep Snape safe. The secret passages would be better. He could tell Draco about one of them, as well as leaving a note to himself.

"Why do you have a pensieve, anyway?"

"Oh, Father got it for me. For precisely this use -- well, not blackmailing my professors, but for making copies of memories. I was supposed to send him ones of you and of Dumbledore."

"Did you?"

"A few. But I only had it a few months before...." Draco shrugged, and Harry nodded sympathetically.

"That was a rubbish year."

"Yeah." Draco took a long breath. "But it freed me. Expensively, but...."

"Yeah."

 

They headed back out into the dungeons and Draco led the way past Snape's office to a shallow alcove.

"Why are we stopping?"

For answer, Draco tapped on one of the stones with his wand. After a moment, a window appeared in it, reflecting Draco's face.

"What is it, Mr. Malfoy?" It was Snape's voice, contemptuous and tight.

"I want to talk terms."

"Terms for what? I will not report your idiotic stunt, if that's what you're afraid of."

Draco smirked. "I have protections against memory charms, Professor. There are already copies in two locations. Let us in."

The arch turned into a door, which slid to the side. Professor Snape greeted them with a silent sneer, holding his words until the door was back in place.

"Mr. Malfoy, you are trying my patience. There is nothing for you to remember."

"Oh? I haven't had a chance to watch it all yet, but I don't believe I _imagined _the way you rode him in the chair."

Snape hissed out a breath, and it was all Harry could do to keep from laughing. He wouldn't have guessed that move, and he bet Draco wouldn't have either. Smirking, he walked over to a wing chair by the wall and settled in to watch.

"First, of course," said Draco haughtily, "you are to see to it that Harry is in no way punished, including being humiliated, for acquiescing to my desires, including in the purchase and use of this potion." He smirked. "Second ... hm ... you will not punish me for anything for the rest of the year. Third --"

Though his arms stayed tight across his body, Snape sneered back at him. "I believe you overestimate how damaging this would be to me."

"Do I? I think not. Even if you escaped imprisonment--"

"I am perfectly capable of that!"

"Yes, but your position here protects you, does it not? I don't believe you wish to serve the Dark Lord full time. Confined in a large area with apparition blocks and Dumbledore watching you, you must evade many odious and humiliating duties."

Snape's face was a mask now. Draco pressed on.

"And consider Jeannette's feelings when she learns that the man who failed to protect her engaged in similar sport with a helpless boy. Her family is unaligned, you know; Potter is not natural prey in her mind. Indeed, that sentiment is on the decline throughout our house, now that Potter is occasionally present there."

"He took it willingly!" Snape protested, his eyes flicking towards Harry for a minute and then falling nervously away.

"Indeed. But for _me_, not for you."

"You _offered _him, you brat!"

"True, and that would be hard to conceal. But I will get in so much less trouble than you would that I am willing to endure it." Draco shrugged. "The scandal will be much greater when it was one of his professors. Everyone will speculate wildly as to what else you might have done in the past. And the headmaster is fond of Harry; he may not stop at firing you and bringing charges."

By now, Snape was pale, and Harry's amusement had waned. Draco was bullying Snape, and using him to do it, and it really wasn't fair. He _had _known what would happen, approximately. He looked anxiously at Snape, but the man wouldn't meet his eyes.

Instead, Snape was focusing entirely on Draco. "I can't," he said. "What you want just isn't possible."

"Really, professor?" Draco drawled. "I think it is."

"You forget that both Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore have Mr. Weasley's original statement -- that Potter was actively looking for a violation potion! Even if I say I am satisfied that he had nothing to do with the matter under investigation, he will need to account for himself!

"We could tell the truth," Harry suggested. Both of them looked scornfully at him. It was almost a relief, after the way Snape had been avoiding his eyes.

"The truth would still get you into considerable trouble, Harry," Draco explained patiently. "You _did _buy it and use it, and you broke into Slytherin to do so."

"And as you are of age, we certainly could not keep a conviction out of the news," Snape added.

"Oh. I suppose." Harry thought about it more. "Um ... it still lets on that I bought it, but what if it was a scavenger hunt?"

"What?"

"What if Draco and I had a list? A contest of who could get the most of a set of difficult things? Say ... a violation potion and some sort of Muggle drug, to start with."

"Where would I get a _Muggle _drug?" Draco asked scornfully.

"Exactly why I'd suggest it, after you suggested an illegal potion, right?" Harry grinned. "Not that I know how to get one either, but I could find out more easily than you."

Snape looked almost impressed. "It has potential. Both of you are that foolish in your rivalry."

"An item from Malfoy Manor," Draco said, ignoring Snape to focus on Harry.

"Oh, I can do that!" Harry crowed. Dobby would certainly do. "Something that belonged to the Marauders," he countered.

"Who?"

Snape's face twisted in a sneer. "A band of Gryffindor thugs."

"_My _family legacy, to balance yours," Harry clarified. "And it _is _possible, Draco. Snape might even point you in the right direction.

"Makeup and knickers from a girl who doesn't like you," Draco suggested.

Harry glanced around the dimly lit room, hoping to see something that would give him an idea. He didn't, but.... "Personal property stolen from your head of house. You can give it back afterwards."

Draco laughed. "_Demon_," he said, with a shiver of pleasure. "I think that's enough, given their level of difficulty. Oh -- but I have a bonus item!"

"Oh?"

"Get the other to apologize to you in public."

Harry laughed. "Brilliant."

Draco crossed his arms over his chest and nodded sharply. "I think that will do. With an end date of the first of February?"

"So long?" Harry shrugged. "Fine."

"Well, it explains why we don't have most of them yet. Unless you want to go and nick something from the assistant Head." Draco looked sidelong at Snape. "Professor?"

"It is imbecilic." He scowled. "Which makes it all the more believable. And it may still need to go before a court, since Potter actually bought the damn brew --"

"Couldn't we just say he'd intended to, but was still researching?"

Harry snorted. "And then what if Lennox gives up his customer list? No, better say that I bought two doses and you confiscated and destroyed them."

"Evidence, Potter."

"All right, confiscated. Don't tell me you can't brew replacements."

Harry expected Snape to say that his would be better, but instead, the professor was regarding him intently.

"Lennox?"

"Oh, yeah. That was what I wanted to say before we left last time. You never asked who sold it to me."

"I had assumed," Snape said slowly, his voice dangerous, "a supplier in Hogsmeade."

"Um, no. Ninian Lennox, a Ravenclaw seventh year."

Snape swore. "Had you not considered what _others _might be doing with this potion?"

Shamed, Harry reddened. "I think I'd been, uh, trying not to." He swallowed. "Sorry."

"And having your little _game _was more important than the safety of your fellow students," Snape spat.

"I hadn't thought about it! And how could you _not know_? I didn't have to ask around much."

"I had no idea that someone in the school--"

"You've just been assuming--"

"I asked the first two students whom I interviewed, and both of them told me the same location in Hogsmeade." Snape's face twisted. "After that, yes, I assumed. I will have to call two others back ... and Lennox."

Draco cleared his throat. He was noticeably pink, even in the dim light. "So. Harry bought two doses and you confiscated them."

Snape waved a hand in dismissal, as if the matter was inconsequential. "Yes. Very well. He will need to be charged, and it may still make the news, but both of you will be considered to be guilty of nothing more than appalling judgment." He scowled. "Fabricate whatever evidence you wish, and we will meet in the morning, before breakfast, to coordinate tales.

"Now, you are dismissed. _Both _of you!"

In the corridor, Draco leaned close. "Anyone else would have said 'thank you,'" he confided, and Harry laughed.

 

They parted ways at the stairs, having already settled the wording of the list to fit with Harry's questioning of Ron, and Harry made the long climb up to Gryffindor by himself. He was tired, and wanted sleep -- washing, he thought, could wait until morning, even if he probably had Snape's sweat, and worse, all over him in addition to Draco's.

All thought of sleep disappeared when he stepped through the portrait hole. It was late, and the Common Room was nearly empty. There was a small group of fifth years studying at one of the tables, and -- alone by the fire -- Ron Weasley.

In a burst of indignation, Harry marched over. He stopped in front of Ron, crossing his arms over his chest as his erstwhile best friend looked up.

"I'm offended." His words came out low and harsh. Ron scowled in response.

"What, that I'd _tell_?" Ron challenged.

"That you think I'd DO such a thing."

"I don't know _what _you'd do!" Ron shot to his feet, fists clenched at his sides.

"I HAVEN'T CHANGED!" Startled by the force of his own shout, Harry sucked a long breath in and forced himself to let it out slowly. "I haven't," he repeated sulkily.

"You killed people."

"Because I had to! It wasn't _sport_, some twisted idea of pleasure."

"You certainly looked pleased."

"I was pleased you were _alive! _That you and Hermione and Neville were alive." Harry sank down onto the sofa. "There wasn't room for much else."

"Look," Ron said, sounding reasonable. "Six months ago you would have said you wouldn't do that."

Startled, Harry straightened on the couch. "I would not!" he retorted. Ron looked as incredulous as Harry felt, and Harry gestured at the windows. "There's a _war _on, in case you haven't noticed. I'd always assumed I'd have to kill someone someday. Voldemort, at least."

"You... you can't mean that!"

"I do!" Harry rubbed his forehead. "It was almost a relief to get it over with, at first, but then there was _you,_ acting like I'm _sick_, and Neville treating me like a hero...." He looked away. Peripherally, he was still aware of Ron sitting across from him. For a while, both of them were silent.

"You were out late again." The comment was tentative, rather than accusing.

Harry snorted. "Yeah, but with Snape, this time. Much less fun."

"I thought he'd talked to you this morning."

"And wanted to again. Actually, he didn't believe all of what I said this morning, so I had to get Draco to back me up."

He realized what he was saying as he said it, but it was too late to stop. After a few seconds of silence, he looked up. Ron was staring, open-mouthed, at him.

"Draco?" Ron repeated weakly.

"Yeah."

"Since when are you on a first name basis with Malfoy?'

Harry shrugged. "Since I started fucking him?"

"Fuck-- _Malfoy_?"

"Yeah."

Another, longer silence passed before Ron managed to find his voice, and even then, it came out weakly. "Didn't know you were bent."

Harry shrugged again, the movement more forced, this time. "Not more than half. And no reason you would know -- I didn't notice till this year, and it's not like we've been _talking_, is it?"

"Wait a moment." Ron's eyes narrowed. "When I told you about the Slytherin girl... You were worried. I could tell."

"You just said 'pregnant.' And I _have _had sex with two of the Slytherin girls, but I was careful and _they _were careful, and anyway, it was too recently, but I did stop and figure that out, because you were acting like I should _know, _or something."

"So you're not always with Malfoy."

"Oh, he was there. It was, um, a group thing. They came by when we were at it, and, well...." Harry shrugged again, and laughed nervously. "Um, you want details?"

"If Malfoy was there?" Ron looked positively green. "No."

"Well, no details then. But they weren't asleep. Not in the slightest!"

"You asked for the potion," Ron said stubbornly.

"Yeah, but...." He ought to practice his story, Harry decided. He shifted in the chair. "It was a scavenger hunt."

"A what?"

"A scavenger hunt. That was one of the things Draco had added, because I'd need to figure out what it was and _then _find out how to get it, right? And I did, but I didn't use it. Though I'd been thinking I might, on Draco, because he might actually get off on that having been done to him -- he's sort of strange, like that." Harry shrugged. "But since Snape confiscated it...."

"You know," Ron said slowly, "if you're having Malfoy, not to mention with _additions_, you can't really say you haven't changed."

"I see your point," Harry admitted, "but he's changed more. Really, with me, I think it's just discovering sex -- or rather, sex with someone who likes to be ... overpowered? A little? Overpowered, but in charge, I think; he thinks he's in control. I don't, but I don't argue it."

"Don't want to hear it!" Ron said quickly, lifting his hands in front of his face, and Harry couldn't keep from laughing.

"All right. Time for bed anyway, I think." He glanced over at Ron. "Sleep, I mean."

"Stow it, Potter!"

"Okay." To Harry's delight, Ron didn't sound hostile. It was still "Potter," but maybe they'd made some progress.

They went up the stairs together, and then Harry went off to get ready for bed. Brushing his teeth, he found himself wondering what had been in his mouth that afternoon. He didn't want to speculate. He really needed to watch Draco's memory, so he would _know_, but there were other things to do first -- check the list that Draco had made, and sign it, and talk to Snape again, and then talk to Hermione, because she must be speculating herself in circles over his inclusion as a suspect. When he settled into bed and caught the foreign scents on his skin, he was afraid that distaste and uncertainty would keep him awake, but exhaustion was with him, and he dropped off before he could summon the will to check the clock.


End file.
